Mysteries Abysmal

Not so fabulous

I was out of town last year, so I didn't see until this past Sunday that the annual gay parade rolls right outside my front door.  I hate parades of all kinds, to be honest, and this one had to be as obnoxious as Mardi Gras or every teen Bermuda spring break.  I'm down for a celebration, but float after float of sculpted abs, fake tans, and dental string underwear is silly.  If I may borrow the wise words from Ratso Rizzo,  the gay culture I admire--just like the straight one--has "no need to expose itself." 

(Fundies lookin' to spoil the fun...)

(...a drag queen fights back!)

Why Lynch matters

Most have seen this before, but it's worth seeing a thousand times over. The view of Frank (Hopper) at the 00:54 mark might be Lynch's finest shot.  It doesn't get any better than this, folks. (note: 00:54 mark if clock ticks down; 00:39 if counts up) 

My Time Out Chicago debut

Thanks to Marc Geelhoed over at Deceptively Simple, I'm now writing album reviews for Time Out.  Here's numero uno, which is a disc of Brahms quartets by the Emersons.  Soon there will be another one on Shostakovich/Tchaikovsky 1st piano concertos performed by Russian up-and-comer Denis Matsuev.  Chicagoans ought consider getting a subscription to TOC; what Marc has built over there in the mag's music section has been incredible.

Alan Rich

Alan Rich is 83 years old, but you wouldn't know it by reading his music criticism.  As John Adams so accurately said, he conveys his listening experiences with a "boy's sense of wonder."  So I've been reading him a lot thanks to last year's release of his collected writings called So I've Heard: Notes of a Migratory Music Critic.  The last essay in the book is called "Salvation through K. 448," which is an example of my favorite type of criticism, i.e. the kind that makes the reader want to go out and listen to something they haven't heard before.  So I did, and I can't think of a better description of this one musical passage:

At the end of the slow movement there is a further miracle, tiny but unforgettable.  The music draws to its close, and about four measures from the end the first pianist spins a bit of stardust, a tiny, quiet filigree.  Those two measures of K.448 are heaven sent.  Then I go back and hear the slow movement again, and after the amusing roughouse in the finale, I arrive at the end, restored.  Dear God, I truly love this music.

...and then a few months ago, he wrote a review of a concert that included Scott Joplin's Solace--a masterpiece that is rarely performed and even less written about:

Scott Dunn began the program with a handful of Scott Joplin rags. Wonderful, rich, wistful pieces — “Solace” often has me in tears — these really constitute our American counterpart of Schubert or Chopin waltzes, and ought to be given equal prominence on concert programs. First, they need to be given substance; Dunn, an excellent and imaginative musician, lessened their value by omitting every one of the repeats. Something like that last refrain of “Solace” (remember it from The Sting?) needs the time to break our hearts. Cutting it short like that broke mine.

While some may think his sentiments are a tad overstated at times, I think he's a blast.  My only beef with him right now is his passionate hatred for "Ein Heldenleben." 

Woof Dawg in da house

This was the final weekend of shooting for the film Off the Cuff, a Christopher Guest-like satire of the Chicago improv scene.  Last Saturday I was an extra who got a few lines; this weekend they wanted me behind the cameras as script supervisor.  I took a few behind-the-scenes snapshots for your enjoyment.  I hope you'll read on...

The man in the hat, Brent Kado, is the film's producer and creator.  Brent has agreed to offer his talents when we make our film on 26. His wife, Jessica, is on stage in pink. She also works for Second City. 

 

 

Listen to this.  This helluva nice man likes to be called "Da Daddy Woof Dawg," and he volunteers to do "extras" work up to three times a week.  He lives in south-central (and very rural) Illinois, is unemployed, and commutes all around the midwest for gigs.  By putting in his dues as an extra, he's hoping to catch the eyes of some Hollywood mogul.  Unfortunately after a year's worth of hard work and commitment, he's yet to be paid for his efforts.  He told me candidly that he'd like to try porn someday and that his ultimate dream is to collaborate in a movie with Stephen Seagul. 

         

One of the sweetest gals I know, Lizzie is the film's virtuoso photographer.  I also worked briefly with her at the DePaul bookstore in '05. 

Making a film is roughly 0.3% "lights, camera, action," and about 99.7% sitting around.

A premature snap on my part, as Kado begins to say "cheese doodles!" 

Iran, you're no fun

It is no secret that I'm a budding adult film actor, so it's probably wise I scratch Tehran off my list of future tour stops. 

A black comedy, done right

"Harry un ami qui veut du bien," or "With a Friend Like Harry" (France 2000), is a subtle and dark look at obsessive-weirdo Harry Ballestero and his relationship with old schoolmate Michael.  It's "Cable Guy" meets the "Vanishing," but way more intense and restrained than the former.  I have to give the French credit on this one, as this film's revealed a humor to me that I didn't quite think they had in them.  Bravo, bravo! 

Eurocrites

The Paris Hilton story's revealing a lot of hypocrisy in European media.  Reuters, Spiegel, Times, BBC, Guardian, the Independent etc have all done themselves few favo(u)rs by giving this a front page presence.  Even last night, the Times Online made Paris's return to jail their centerpiece feature, complete with an enormous photo of the blonde bimbo bawling in the back seat.  Never mind the G8 Summit, right? 

So what do Euros have to say about it?  Outrage everywhere (through message board discussions and article comments) at U.S. injustice for privileging such a spoiled little rich girl.  It was the perfect opportunity to make a widespread cultural critique on how minorities and the impoverished get the "real" treatment in America.  The "land of the free" jokes were everywhere.  Of course this was all before the judge ordered her back to prison and there's been very little banter since.   Perhaps the most suprising thing about all this was the minimal attention paid to this coinciding story re: George Michael's similar situation.  Thankfully justice is served here in the States and that non-story has received almost no play on CNN and in the NY Times.  The determined anti-American European Left and the Sean Hannitys, Ann Coulters, Bill O'Reillys are all the same to me.       

   

50 Cent takes on Beethoven's 9th

...props to the filmmakers, as I was sure we were gonna hear the opening bars of the more commericial-friendly 5th. 

Jock talk

This was the shortest conversation I've ever had on music.  During college, I came back to my highschool and played tennis with one of the area's coaches. 

Me:  So what do you listen to?  Gotta favorite band?

Tennis instructor:  Hmm.  (1-minute pause).  I don't know.  I like the guys who sang "Pretty fly for a white guy."  Probably them.